Take Whats Mine (And Do It Viciously)
by kamz00r
Summary: She had always been a curious one, and a bit spoiled when it came to wisdom gained. When she had a question (and she had many) it was answered. Now she had all the questions in the world, but no answers to speak of. And that just wouldn't do. Now she had a mission, a plan and a goal. Now she was angry.


Months had passed since Solas had abandoned Skyhold. The war was won, the sky healed but scarred. Inquisitor Lavellan had thrown herself in to her work and her role. To the people who looked to her for leadership and guidance she was the same kind, compassionate elf she had always been, lending aid where ever she could. But to those who knew her, to those who followed her from the start, to those who sought her companionship as well as her insight, those few knew.

She kept herself busy at first, to keep herself from thinking. She traveled all around, closing the remaining rifts and aiding those most affected by the chaos. Her companions kept close eyes on their leader, waiting for what they didn't know, but they waited none the less.

At night, when she was left with her thoughts, that's when it seemed as if the world was falling down around her all over again, like that fateful day at the Conclave. To think, a wandering, bare faced elf had changed her perspective so. He had come to her with ancient knowledge and her curious heart had grasped desperately to every word he had to say. He had promised answers in return for her trust and she had given it freely, for her hunger for answers had always been one of her greatest weaknesses, as well as strengths, or so her keeper had claimed. And she fell.

At night, when she was left with her thoughts, before sleep consumed her, she heard wolves.

* * *

Things changed in the span of a night. And by the most mundane of things. Bull and Varric had pulled their Inquisitor to the tavern in a friendly attempt to take her mind off of things. Many drinks were had, questions were asked and when it got late the two helped her back to her room and all was well.

Up until the next morning anyway.

Dorian had stormed over to Varric in the main hall, a deep scowl settling over his face. "What in Andraste's name did you do to her, dwarf?"

"To who? Vivi? What's wrong with her?" Varric asked. She hadn't had _that _much to drink.

"She's been in a frenzy since she woke up this morning! Which was at the crack of dawn, I might add!"

"We didn't do-!"

"Pulling down every manner of script! Muttering under her breath, Varric! Muttering! Like some cliché story book cook! And she hasn't let the library since she got there, I-"

"Dorian!" Their Inquisitor's voice rang from somewhere upstairs.

Dorian groaned. "Coming, dear!" He called back. He gave Varric one last withering glare before turning on his heel back towards the stairs. All Varric could do was watch. It seemed their fearless leader was in a rare mood indeed. Far be it for him to interfere.

* * *

She had an epiphany for sorts. Dorian joined her in her new studies, if a little reluctantly. Tombs littered their desks. Books of the face and its possibilities. She sent word to her keeper, who in turn sent as many books on their history as she possible could, with a letter of encouragement and luck. She hardly slept. When she did, the wolves would howl and cloud her sight with darkness, but this did not deter her. She ignored the warnings and walked deeper in to the face than she had been before, for _his _shared wisdom still rang true and the student would follow to a fault.

When the books became scarce she listened. Listened to the whispers of a powerful and ancient force. One who's well she had consumed in desperation. She had not known at the time just how peorful this newfound knowledge and magic would be. One night she realized he could not have possible known the full extent of this power, for surely he would never have allowed her to drink the waters in the first place.

She had always been a curious one, and a bit spoiled when it came to wisdom gained. When she had a question (and she had many) it was answered. Now she had all the questions in the world, but no answers to speak of. And that just wouldn't do.

Now she had a mission, a plan and a goal.

Now she was angry.

* * *

**Solas**

He felt it in an instant. A slow, burning sensation that overcame him to the very core. Like a pot over the fire, burning slowly until its contents boiled over. His consumption of Mythal's power had left him with an ever knowing sense of her, his Inquisitor.

He felt her fire one night on the cusp of sleep. Something had awoken in her, something targeted towards him. Unfortunately that was the extent of their bond from such a distance. The knowing.

In the fade her heard rumors. An elven woman with a charm on her left hand, the spirits spoke, who left fire where she she walked. She was traveling the fade. Solas could admit he was immensely proud of her. She had taken his teachings and made them her own and now she walked amongst the spirits as he did. Of course this also meant that he had to be more careful.

As much as he wished for it he could not let her find him. So he sent his warnings in hopes darkness would set her off his path and left it at that. He cast a fog around himself when he traveled and kept his gaze lowered. If Solas did not wish to be found he would not be. So it had always been and so it will ever be.

But he had greatly underestimated her. Something he had learnt most do when they met her. But he should have known better.

* * *

On a cool night he settled down beneath the stars in a tomb long forgotten by mortals, but always he felt her pull and always he ignored it, his heart heavy and solemn as he did so.

While he walked amongst the spirits and whisps he felt a gaze follow him.

A long spirit kept its eyes on him as he walked.

"What do you wish of me, spirit?" He asked gently, for he had encountered such curious beings as this before.

The spirit was faceless but its stare never wavered. "You are he who has my ward in such a state? He who walks between worlds?" The spirit asked, almost confused.

Solas recognized this apparition. The spirit of command his Inquisitor had gained favor with on their journey to Mirkwood.

"This will not do at all. A woman of her determination should not fret over a request such as this one she has given me. Much too simple, really."

And before Solas could even ask their location changed, quick as a dagger.

Warning bells rang in his mind as he took note of their new surroundings. These ruins. The very ruins he had left all his happiness behind in the span of a moment. Where he had broken the ties he had with his Inquisitor out of cowardice.

Where he had watched her heart break before his eyes and where he had his own ripped from him of his own free will.

He did not wish to be here.

He willed for change, to be removed from this place but something kept him from leaving. Keeping calm, he turned to find the spirit that had brought him here but it wasn't the spirits gaze he found.

"Auvrea'ha." He muttered as his Inquisitors eyes found his own.

She stood before him, head held high, eyes burning like liquid emerald. She didn't move, nor did her for fear of breaking whatever spell the two were under.

"Solas." Her voice was soft, but as soon as she uttered his name he felt a righteous fury overwhelm the space they stood in. She took a step towards him, he almost took a step back.

"You can't keep running, Solas." She spoke quietly, but her tone kept him silent. She took another step.

Solas actually felt his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful. The moon caressed her face, gold and bare, her eyes lit with a fire and a ferocity he had never seen her wear before.

This fury was for him and him alone, this face, this power. All for him. Was it wrong of him to feel a little smug?

She took another step, this time Solas did step back.

"Ma vhenan, stop."

She continued. "I will not. Not until I find you, Solas. I will follow lathbora viran. I am very angry with you, hahren. In case that wasn't obvious already. You have a lot to answer for."

Solas closed his eyes tightly as happiness as well as sorrow consumed him. Oh how he wished to just submit to his own selfishness and let her find his tracks. This elf who shone like a goddess, all passion and fire.

She was closer now, their chests almost touching. He could run his fingers through her hair, he could feel her breath on his lips. "I don't think you quite understand the extents I am willing to achieve, hahren." She touched his cheek gently, fingertips brushing his skin and he opened his eyes.

The anger in her gaze took his breath away.

"Dirthara-ma."

And then he was awake, rising from his cot violently, breath quick and sporadic.

Solas let his head fall in to his hands and felt a grin spread across his face. He heard his glorious Inquisitors voice echo through his mind and laughed. He was being hunted. He felt younger than he had in centuries.

The irony was not lost on him, of course.

It was still late in the night but he gathered his things and ventured away from his makeshift camp. For the Inquisitor had his scent now and did not wish to dally.

He looked to the starts as he walked and felt the warm wind brush his form. If he closed his eyes he could imagine her fingers tracing his face, gently.

With a gentle laugh he muttered a prayer of his own. "May the Inquisitor never hear my steps."

* * *

A short oneshot I came up with while listening to an angry break up song, because apparently I have to write my own god damn closure.

Lathbora viran - "the path to a place of lost love," a longing for a thing one can never really know

Dirthara-ma - "may you learn"

Hahren - elder

Ma Vhenan - my heart


End file.
